At the end of 1989, Toyota put the world's schmantziest carmakers on notice. Detroit was stumbling aimlessly through its quality nadir. The Europeans were selling finicky machines that were as expensive to buy and maintain as they were enjoyable to drive.

With the arrival of the Lexus LS400, the BMW 7-series and the Mercedes-Benz S-class were suddenly outmoded. The already-marginal Maserati Quattroporte III gave up the ghost and announced its retirement in 1990. Here was a large, comfortable, suitably luxurious automobile fit for a plutocrat that out-Benzed Benz. And did so for significantly less coin.

In fact, looking at the LS400 today, it can be reasonably argued that the design of the original LS holds up better than the W126 and W140 S-classes it fought with for customers.

It's hard to understate how shocking the car was at the time, especially for something that's considered somewhat of a ho-hum, staid vehicle today. In the early '90s, purchasing an LS over one of the European or domestic marques pegged you as a person of means who was both progressive and practical.

Since then, however, Lexus' fortunes have flagged. The cars are often derided as a safe choice for affluent people who don't care much for driving. The company's new product line aims to address that reputation. The polarizing “spindle” grille has proliferated across the range since last year's introduction of the GS--a car that's gone from an also-also-ran to a darling of the motoring press in its latest iteration.

So expectations were heightened for the new LS. Especially the new zoot-besuited F-Sport edition.

What's it like to drive?

It's an LS. It's cushy. It's luxurious. The new interior is excellent. In typical Toyota fashion, the 4.6-liter V8 is revvy rather than torquey, pulling strongly above 4,000 rpm. Rear-wheel-drive models make 386 hp at 200 revs shy of the engine's 6,600-rpm redline, while all-wheel-drive cars make do with 367 hp. Even in F-Sport guise, nobody's going to confuse the LS with the AMG-massaged S-class. But as Lexus general manager Mark Templin points out, the superheated Sonderklasse amounts to a tiny portion of the large Mercedes sedan's sales mix.

The driving experience could best be described as “generic platonic luxury ideal.” It's a car built for people who used to buy big Cadillacs and Lincolns. It does everything without drama, without jostling its precious occupants. There's not the measure of flashy opulence that comes with Jaguar's XJ, a car that also trades at a price point below the big Bimmers and Benzes. In fact, it's rather the Jag's opposite, even if the Lexus does wear the more outré maw. Other than the exterior, the LS is fundamentally restrained in every respect. The two cars compete in the same segment, but we doubt they'll compete for buyers.

Niggles over the spindle grille aside, the new car looks ace. Lexus found the confidence to make the new LS look more Japanese than ever before. The sculpted hood seems to catch the light in any color--it even manages to grab one's eye in silver. From the rear, it's a presence out of anime; something elegant and rather threatening--a yakuza hover tank, perhaps.

What's more, Lexus didn't get the “sidewall is the devil” hype memo. There is no 20-inch wheel option--19-inchers are as big as they come in the land of the LS. We'd like to hug somebody for that.

Perhaps the most ballyhooed addition to the LS line is also the most left field. It's the aforementioned F-Sport. Primarily an appearance package, the more menacing iteration of the big sedan features a 0.4-inch suspension drop, unique 19-inch wheels, more aggressive front and rear end caps and its own milled-aluminum-accented interior package. It's also fitted with Brembo brakes; rear-drive models also get a Torsen rear differential. Over the road, the F-Sport is more sprightly than the base car, but don't mistake it for a corner-carver. It's more a high-speed, long-distance transport. A sinister Shinkansen with no need for rails.

Our favorite, however, is the least performance-oriented model, the LS600h hybrid.

Despite the inherent dynamic goodness engendered by its rear-drive setup, trying to make an LS sporty seems to defeat the purpose of the car. Mercedes-Benz has a long history with incongruous rocket ships, dating back to the 300SEL 6.3 of 1968. Lexus does not. And the F-Sport, while a fine-driving automobile, feels a bit out of step.

The long-wheelbase 600h, however, stands as the ne plus ultra of LS-ness, and it's only available with all-wheel drive. There's no pretension of tail-happy tomfoolery whatsoever. From the rear seat, the 12.3-inch multifunction display in the dash seems far, far away. But you don't care. You don't want to be anywhere near the dash. You've got shiatsu massagers! You've got a rad little bamboo-laminate table that pops out of the massive center console. You've got a freaking ottoman, bub. Just beneath the Blu-ray player, said console features a box marked “Box.” At least that's how it was denoted on stickers in the preproduction prototype we drove. It's all enough to make one hire a driver and adopt a Jim Backus accent as a full-time affectation.

If one is forced the gauche ignominy of actually operating the machine, rest assured that it's smooth as whirled peas to drive. While we're generally opposed to added weight, in the extra-large LS hybrid the heft of the battery pack and auxiliary powertrain goodies--not to mention the additional sheetmetal--makes the car even more plush feeling. In stop-and-go traffic, it nearly matches the Rolls-Royce Phantom's low-speed ease of use--and the big Roller owns that category. The continuously variable transmission coupled to the electric motor delivers seamless power all the way up, with pleasing atomic-jet-techno noises accompanying the song of the V8 in a polite way. Sure, you can buy a long-wheelbase LS460 without the hybrid powertrain, but why would you?

Do I want it?

It's hard to call the LS a return to earthshaking form, given that the rest of the world's copped on to Lexus' formula. Not a clean-sheet design, the new car consists largely of a series of worthwhile refinements wrapped in new and daring sheetmetal. No doubt, the 2013 LS is a better car than the vehicle it replaces, and you probably already know if you want an LS460 or an F-Sport. What you might not know--especially if you're in the market for a long-wheelbase plutobarge--is that you may well want the LS600h.

The luxo-hybrid's a car that knows exactly what it is and makes absolutely no apologies for it. Now in its second generation and no longer alone in the electrified-exec segment, it nevertheless manages to stand as something different. It's a fine heir to its forefathers' throne.